


Kiss Me

by sarahjacobs



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: M/M, kind of cute, nervous boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 01:32:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13043745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahjacobs/pseuds/sarahjacobs
Summary: “Shut up and kiss me.”





	Kiss Me

**Author's Note:**

> I am bad at summaries, titles and endings wow! Do I ever write a story where Sarah and Spot aren’t best friends? No. Good luck.

Sean Conlon was fucked. He was always fucked, but right now he was extra fucked.

It all started because of his foster brother Jack Kelly. Jack introduced Spot to his one of his best friends, Antonio Higgins or as he likes to be called Race. Race talked to Spot more than Jack's other friends, and Race attempted to be friends with Spot; but Spot didn't do friends (although Sarah Jacobs will disagree).

That didn't stop Race, no. No matter how much Spot tried to ignore him or get him to stop, Race didn't give up. Maybe it was because Race enjoyed the fact that he could annoy Spot. And soon Spot began talking back to Race. They argued back and forth, sometimes they just talked back and forth. Spot talked to Race more than he did Jack.

Spot looked forward to seeing Race everyday, and then soon Spot realized just how much he liked Race. He liked Race. He like-liked him. And he found out he like-liked him in the stupidest way. They were just playing Mario Kart and Race had beat Albert (which was hard, because Albert was scary good) and then Spot knew he was fucked. All because of Race's stupid victory dance.

That's why he's lying face down on Sarah Jacobs bed. Sarah didn't say anything as she ran her fingers through his hair. He did advise her not to do that because he hadn't showered in at least two days. Spot groaned.

"Spot I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," Sarah says with her stupid soft voice. Spot huffs and rolls over onto his back and stares at the ceiling. Sarah looks down at him with a large smile. "Spotty." Spot glares at her for using the nickname she had used since they were in middle school.

"It's nothing," He grumbles.

"Obviously it's not nothing," Sarah replies, "You come here, looking and smelling, no offense, like shit and you've been laying here ever since."

Then Sarah began guessing. Spot shook his head at each of her guesses. "Race," She said. Spot froze. "Alright so it's a problem with Race, but you always have a problem with Race."

Spot didn't say anything.

"Okay, so it's a different kind of problem...you fucking like him."

Spot cursed.

"Wait is that actually it? It can't be, that'd be too easy!" Sarah laughed, "Oh my gosh! Sean!"

Spot glared at her again. He sat up and grabbed his jacket.

"Spot, where are you going?" Sarah asks.

"Home," He grumbles, lacing his shoes up.

"Spot, you can stay here," Sarah offers, moving beside him. She places a hand on his shoulder, "Come on, Spot, I didn't mean to...Spot it's fine."

"I better get home, God knows Jack can't survive all by himself for longer than an hour," Spot shrugs. Sarah sighs but walks him to the door.

"Bye, Sean," She says, "Don't worry about it too much, okay?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"I mean it! Don't make yourself crazy over it. You like him, that's okay."

Spot rolls his eyes and began walking home. "Stupid Race," He grumbles as he walks down the apartment stares. "Stupid, stupid—" He stops mumbling to himself as he steps outside in the crowds of people walking home from work.

Spot stands outside his building as he lights a cigarette. He leans against the wall, watching the people enter and leave. Spot watched the couple across the street, sitting on a bench and talking quietly. He rolls his eyes and puts out the cigarette before walking to him and Jack's shared apartment.

Spot digs out his key in his jacket pocket, then struggles to find the right key. He had too many keys, he didn't even know what all of them went to. He hung his coat up on the rack, placed his keys back in the pocket and threw his shoes on top of Jack's. Spot stalked to the living room, ready to flop onto the old couch but froze when seeing Race pacing nervously.

"Race?"

"Spot!" The curly haired boy stopped his pacing. He turned to look at Spot with wide eyes, "Hey, uh, Jack let me in. He went to David's though, hope you don't mind I just—"

"It's fine," Spot interrupts, moving closer to his couch. He picked his cat up before sitting back down. "You alright?"

"Fine, uh, you?"

"Fine."

Race awkwardly sits beside him, Spot tenses but quickly tries to relax. "So, what do you need?"

"I was going to ask you," Race begins, "I mean I talked to Kath and she said that I should...uh. We've been friends for a long time, right?"

"Depends," Spot jokes.

"Okay well I've considered you my friend for a long time..." Race trails off, "That's not the point. I kind of...and you know it's fine—" he plays with a string on his shirt nervously. "Anyways, it's fine if you don't want to it's not like—"

"Shut up and kiss me already," Spot blurts out.

Race looks up at him with wide eyes, "Wh—what?"

"I just..." Spot trails off, "Well?"

Race stares at him for a bit, Spot shifts uncomfortably. Spot rolls his eyes after a few minutes and pulls Race closer to him. "I was gonna ask you," Race begins, "If you wanted to go out with me, like on a date?"

Spot nods and they sit awkwardly side by side, neither of them knowing what to do now. Race slowly reaches over and takes Spot’s hand into his. Spot quickly looks over at Race with a stupid smile. Race smirks and then his lips are pressed against Spot’s. Spot sits in surprise as Race moves his lips against his own, hands tangling in his hair. Spot recovers from the shock quickly and kisses him back, his hands roaming everywhere, unsure of where to settle them. When Race pulls away, Spot keeps his eyes closed, scared that if he opens them it would just be a dream.

“Spot?” Race asks. Spot felt a blush spread from his neck up to his face. They were still extremely close. “Spot, you okay?”

“Fine,” Spot breathes, “I don’t want to open my eyes.”

“Why?” Race laughs nervously.

“In case it’s all a dream,” Spot mutters, but Race heard him. Race didn’t laugh like Spot expected him.

“Spot, it’s not a dream,” Race tells him, grabbing hold of Spot’s hands. Spot hesitates but opens his eyes, grinning when Race presses a kiss to his cheek.

“How’s tomorrow at six?” Race asks him, “I get off work then.”

“Good,” Spot replies, “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I had the ending as “and it was all a dream. Sorry Spot.”


End file.
